


Rewarded

by BoneDaddy



Series: Commission Fics [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Creampie, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Imbalance, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Valve Oral (Transformers)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:14:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26175556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoneDaddy/pseuds/BoneDaddy
Summary: After a successful hunt of a very notorious Decepticon traitor, Tarn is recalled to a Decepticon base.
Relationships: Megatron/Tarn (Transformers)
Series: Commission Fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1899364
Comments: 5
Kudos: 46





	Rewarded

**Author's Note:**

> Another commission fic. Basically I just wanted more MegaTarn content too.

He’d been recalled to the Decepticon Central Command. He’d sent in a report a few cycles ago of a successful hunt. Overlord had been eliminated, finally, after searching for him for far too long in Tarn’s opinion. He had thought his presence had been ordered because of how long he’d taken on such an important quarry. His results rate had usually been so quick, surely Lord Megatron would question why this particular one proved to be so difficult.

He strode through the base after the Peaceful Tyranny had landed. Soldiers stationed there actively moved out of his way, as they should have. None of them were particularly notable. He briefly wondered why his lord had them stationed in Central Command. Only briefly, he’d never dream of questioning Megatron’s commanding voice.

He stood outside of a large, ornate door. He’d been in Megatron’s office only a handful of times, to receive assignments. Never had he been reprimanded. He was about to knock lightly when...

“Enter, Tarn.” His Lord’s imposing voice came from the other side of the door. He felt his anxiety spike for a moment, before tamping it down deep into the depths of his processor where it belonged. He cycled a vent before the door slid open. He stepped into the room with calculated steps, not too far apart, not too close, don’t transform, keep your backstrut straight. The door slid shut with a silent command from the Warlord. Tarn could hear the locking mechanism engage. Megatron obviously didn’t want anyone to interrupt whatever punishment he had planned for Tarn.

“I’ve read the full report of Overlord’s disposal. Truly some of your best work to date.” Megatron stood from his desk and strode over to Tarn. His Lord’s praise was the sweetest symphony to Tarn. If it were the only thing he heard ever again, he’d be just fine with that.

“Thank you, my Lord.” the masked mech spoke and gave a slight bow. All the anxiety melted away from him, though he remained as still and stoic as ever. Megatron considered Tarn for a moment, circling around the tank once then standing before him.

“Remove your mask. Hand it to me.” He ordered. Obediently, Tarn’s servo reached up and unclasped it, placing it gingerly in Megatron’s waiting servo. The Warlord looked over the freshly polished mask, turning it over in his hand once or twice before turning and setting it on his desk. He kept his back to Tarn while he spoke again.

“As much as I believe in punishment for disobedience and treason, I also believe in rewarding loyalty.” He turned to his subordinate, a smirk stretching across his lips. The surprise was now clear on Tarn’s face without the mask. He certainly wasn’t expecting this. His head was swimming with delight. Megatron’s praise was reward enough, what else could there be?

His question would soon be answered. Megatron kneeled before Tarn, his strong hands moving over Tarn’s hip plating lightly. The purple mech’s vents hitched but he remained exactly where he stood. His servos trembled at his sides. Just the sight alone caused a familiar warmth to pool in the pit of his stomach.

“Relax… open.” Megatron tapped the warm modesty panel that covered a slickening valve. Tarn did as he was bade and vented slowly to keep himself grounded in his moment. “There’s my good mech.” he purred below him. He gripped Tarn’s hips and pulled him close, a thick, hot glossa slicked over the outer lips of Tarn’s puffy valve. The DJD leader let out a sharp gasp and shivered at the foreign but not unwelcome sensation.

“Ah… ha.. Thank you my Lord.” He huffed, watching as Megatron started to eat him out. Never in 4 million years did he think he’d ever see this. The thought had never crossed his mind, but now that he was experiencing it.. Well, he’d have plenty of material for self-servicing on longer hunts.

Megatron’s glossa slid between the folds of Tarn’s valve, dragging through the slick that had started to leak from him, dragging it up and swirling around his anterior node. He made a pleasant hum and started to work his glossa into him more. Tarn’s optics fluttered closed, his digits flexed and twitched at his sides while his whole frame heated up from the simple ministrations of his Lord. “Oh~ yess.” He hissed out, a trickle of pleasure leaked into his voice, making Megatron moan in response. The Warlord pulled back from the valve, licking his lips.

“That’s it.. Let me hear that beautiful voice of yours.” he purred before returning to ravishing Tarn’s valve with his glossa. In and out, swirl, in and out, Megatron lapped up the lubricant that dripped from the valve getting his attention. Tarn shuttered, this was absolute heaven. Moments of this passed before Tarn’s vents hitched and he bucked lightly, a long, loud moan of pleasure left him as his overload hit him like a train. Megatron continued licking through Tarn’s overload flicking his glossa over the sensitive glowing nub at the apex of his valve.

He barely had time to come down when the Warlord stood, pulling him close and kissing him fiercely. He could taste his own fluids along with Megatron’s natural flavor, it was intoxicating. He’d been pushed back to the desk in the room, trapped between the piece of furniture and Megatron’s frame. The edge of the furniture dug uncomfortably in his back for a moment but Tarn couldn’t be bothered to care. This was everything he’d wanted and he could hardly believe it to be real. With ease, Megatron lifted him so he was sitting on the edge of the desk.

“You’re mine, my beautiful, deadly, loyal decepticon.” He said with a possessive growl, shifting between Tarn’s legs, his spike pressurizing and rubbing across his already soaked valve. Tarn threw his helm back and let out a low moan, wrapping his legs around Megatron’s waist. The warlord slipped a hand between their arrays and angled himself with Tarn’s entrance. He pushed himself forward, the head of his spike pushed past Tarn’s calipers, a delicious burning stretch settled in Tarn’s loins and he groaned softly. His whole frame tingled pleasantly as Megatron gripped his hips and started rocking into him with shallow thrusts, his thick spike pushed deeper and deeper until he was finally seated all the way in. He stilled his hips again and Tarn’s optics flared, the head of his Lord’s spike was pressed against his ceiling node. The edges of his vision staticked as the warlord started a slow pace, pulling his spike back in long languid strokes before pushing back in. Each thrust had the head of his spike pressing against Tarn’s ceiling node with an incessant pressure.

“Ahnnn r-right.. there.” Tarn managed, his digits scrambled against Megatron’s back and he rolled his hips to meet each thrust. Desperation seeped into his field before his Lord set a brutally fast, punishing pace. The DJD leader cried out his pleasure, his thighs shook as charge trickled through his frame. The nodes that lined his valve lit with pleasure as the gentle flares and ridges of Megatron’s spike dragged over them. He panted and arched against his powerful frame.

“M-my Lord… may I overload?” Tarn gasped upon each thrust. “Please.” he whispered and his optics rolled back. Megatron looked over his subordinate with an amused expression.

“You may. This is your reward, enjoy yourself.”  
Tarn sobbed out his pleasure as it washed over his frame in waves, he clung to the Warlord and his whole frame twitched and convulsed. Each thrust of Megatron’s spike only added to his overload. Before Tarn could comprehend was was happening, Megatron’s spike slipped from his valve. He easily shifted tarn so he was bent across his desk, aft out and hips tilted back. This may have been Tarn’s reward, but Megatron would still assert himself over his soldiers.

Not that he needed to with Tarn. The DJD leader knew exactly where his place was, and if that place was bent over Megatron’s desk with his thighs covered in his own lubricants, well then, that was just fine with him.  
Megatron’s thick spike filled his valve once more with a harsh thrust of Megatron’s hips. Strong hands gripped his hips and practically pulled him back to meet his thrusts. It didn’t take long for Tarn to build up to another overload. He didn’t ask for permission this time, he was told to “enjoy himself” and enjoy himself he would.

\--------

Megatron’s stamina was impressive to say the least. Between being a former miner and Gladiatorial champion, his staying power was strong.

Tarn had lost count of the overloads that wracked through his frame, eventually they seemed to just feed into each other in a never ending cycle of pleasure. He does know that at some point Megatron had pulled him up, making his back bow to such a beautiful curvature. His Lord’s lips had latched onto one of his neck cables and abused it with licks and bites, followed by more soothing licks. Tarn’s whole frame trembled as one hand stroked over his throat and under his chin. His helm tilted back against Megatron’s shoulder and he savored the sensation.

Megatron’s thrust began to get shallow and erratic. He kept his pace, brutally pounding Tarn’s valve into another overload. The purple mech sobbed, the pleasure started to err on just this side of painful.  
Megatron roared as his own Overload came crashing over him. Hot spurts of silvery transfluid pumped into Tarn’s valve as he stilled his hips, spike buried deep inside. He could feel each one as his insides were marked. He shuddered through another overload, triggered just by the feeling of hot, sticky fluid pumping into him and stimulating all of the nodes that lined the mesh of his valve.

Their pleasure subsided and Megatron’s spike depressurized. He held a servo to Tarn’s valve, stopping his fluid from leaking out too much. There was a short click of his valve cover being slid back into place. He groaned from the pressure his valve was so full of transfluid. Megatron leaned over Tarn’s back and kissed over an audial before speaking. 

“You’re going to return to your ship filled with my fluids, inform your team that you will resume hunts as scheduled, then you may clean yourself out.” He ordered and Tarn nodded enthusiastically.

“T-thank you, My lord.” He sat up and there was a sharp twinge in his hip from being held too tightly and being bent over the desk. He clipped his mask back into place and shifted a little, the room burned with ozone. It was the only evidence of their coupling, that and the large puddle of Tarn’s lubricant on the floor behind Megatron’s desk.

“You are dismissed.” Megatron stated with a wave of his hand as he sat down behind his desk, getting back to work on whatever it was he’d stopped.  
Tarn’s trek back to the Peaceful Tyranny was uneventful. He gave a short brief to his team before ordering the ship to take off and that he’d be in the washrack for a while.


End file.
